With Love From Paris
by OatAndRaison
Summary: JJ's heart began to thud erratically in her chest, the muscle pounding hard against her ribs, the sound filling her ears. She watched, frozen and unmoving, as her estranged lover began to slowly walk towards her, a small compact suitcase following behind. The blonde's thoughts began to race and she found that all moisture was lost from her mouth; she was struggling to swallow.


**From Paris To America, And Everywhere Inbetween**

JJ stood inside of the large, open plan space with her arms crossed firmly against her chest. Her face was set, her eyes filled with worry and anxiety, anger and frustration. The light shone through the large glass windows designed in the recently modernised airport to create a light and airy scene, but the light only angered JJ; a hot, radiant beam from the setting sun landing against the right side of her face. She found herself wincing each time her eyes hovered over the arrivals board, the board that would tell her when the plane that carried her wife, her recently believed to be dead wife from JJ's perspective, would land back on US soil.

Her colleague watched her carefully, so far unable to figure out how the young woman would react once she came face to face with her wife. Hotch knew that JJ had originally taken the news that her wife wasn't dead hard. He remembered the panic attack the news induced in his office, how the blonde quickly jumped from confusion to anger and then to an inconsolable state of distress. He'd lied for two years. He knew that he'd had no other choice and that he was ordered to from the higher ups, but he knew that he had destroyed the relationship that had built between himself and JJ. It was a dynamic that needed fixing when the time was right.

As of right now, there were more important issues.

Hotch glanced at the seats lining the right side of the open space, a few metres from JJ, screwed into the floor. They were solid, metal seats, not very comfortable. Probably cold too as the temperature dropped in the evening air. The check-in desks lined the opposite side of the entrance to the airport, barriers creating a semi-organised queue leading to the employees situated behind them.

Hotch sighed. "JJ," he started empathetically. "Why don't you take a seat? It will take anywhere between twenty minutes to an hour for Emily to come through customs. You could be waiting a while."

JJ just turned her head, glaring at her boss and setting her jaw. Her eyes said enough. Hotch had no right to advice what she should do in this situation and what she shouldn't. He understood and bowed his head a little, his eyes moving past JJ to scan over the same board the blonde's eyes had been fixated on since they had arrived. He noticed the slight tremor in JJ hands as the younger woman untangled her arms and glanced down at her wedding ring, fingering it carefully.

Her wife. Emily Elizabeth Prentiss. Was not dead. Had not been dead the entirety of these two years. These two years of hell. JJ had woken with more hangovers the first few months after she had buried Emily's coffin than she had woken up with her entire life. She had struggled. Even contemplated suicide, ending her life so that she could join her lover in whatever death brought. She had contemplated doing things that she would never have done had she been of sane mind.

But she hadn't been of sane mind. Emily had gone. And she had taken part of JJ with her.

JJ felt a lump form in her throat and swallowed hard and fast, desperately trying to prevent the oncoming massacre of tears. She would not cry. _I will not cry._ Tears welled up in JJ's eyes regardless, enough that the arrivals board became blurry. The blonde knew that she didn't really need to see the board. She'd stared at the red, digital letters for so long that they had already been burned into memory. Emily should have arrived a little while ago, JJ was aware of that. She was also aware that her wife was somewhere in this airport, in the same place as she, herself, was.

First, JJ had been confused. Why would Hotch say such a thing? How could Emily be alive? They had carried Emily's coffin to her grave, had lowered the casket, a casket with weight that felt like a lifeless body, into the dirt. They had planned a ceremony, a day of remembrance in honour of and FBI agent that had, quite literally as well as figuratively, given her life and everything she had to her job. Her picture had been screwed into the wall in the Quantico building along with other fallen agents.

Then JJ had been angry. Irrationally angry. She knew that she'd taken Emily's staged death personally. But she should have known better, should have known that it was not a personal matter at all. It was, ironically, a matter of life and death. Emily couldn't risk being alive and the carnage that would follow. Emily, Hotch, the higher-ups, they had decided what was best, and if thought about in an objective way, something JJ found herself unable to do, the same decision would have been decided by any other individual concerned.

The team needed time. They needed the fuel after such an exhausting expanse of time to find Doyle and hunt him down. More than that, they needed to remain a unified force. They didn't need distractions, such as Emily lying half dead in a hospital bed. They needed to focus. They needed to work. They didn't need the vulnerability that a bed bound team member, one that the killer was more driven on murdering than any other, would bring.

Next came the sorrow, the pent up grief years in the making. Emily was not dead. She was alive. She was _alive._ A beating, living being. Sandbags lay in her coffin, in her grave, and Emily was still out there somewhere, planning on making her way home. JJ had collapsed on to the floor, the edges of her vision going blurry, uncontrollably sobs rattling her chest, her heart ricocheting against her ribs and sternum with force. She had truly believed that she would black out.

But she hadn't. And now here she was. JJ was aware that she was unable to tell even one single soul that Emily was alive and flying back to the US. She had been sworn into secrecy by nameless, bureaucratic pencil pushers via Hotch. In two weeks the rest of the ream would now. For now, JJ was on sick leave for the same amount of time. That left 14 days for Emily to make herself at home again, 14 days for Emily and JJ to reconcile and reconnect before they headed back to work.

JJ dreaded that day. She knew that the team would initially take the staged death personally too. It would take time for those wounds to heal and for their hearts to accept Emily again. JJ couldn't imagine that pain that must cause Emily. The blonde had thought about her wife's fake death a great deal, her mind being unable to think about anything else for more than a few lousy seconds. And she had come to this; death is final. JJ believed that she, herself, had this situation easier. Believing that Emily was dead was to mean that she was never coming back, there was no hoping for the life she used to have because there was no hope.

However, Emily. She had spent years running, moving from place to place, never making friends and never settling down, the entire time knowing that her wife and colleagues and friends were moving on without her. A tiny, glinting dot of hope would follow her wherever she went, a hope that said maybe one day she could return home. But that hope was the same hope that reminded her that she was dead indefinitely. For all Emily knew, to hunt Doyle down and capture him could take ten years. It could take even longer for the US secretary of defence to agree with other governing agencies that it was safe for her to come home. There was no finality in that, only uncertainty. A consistent and always never knowing.

JJ's looked up at the arrivals board again, glancing at the time. She took a deep breathe. It had already been half an hour since Emily's flight had landed, half an hour of gut wrenching anxiety and worry.

She looked back at the crowds channelling down along the escalators, children, women, men, but nobody that JJ recognised. Her eyes continued to scan faces, wondering the stories of these nameless people travelling to and from customs. JJ chewed her bottom lip, watching a busy businessman make a half dash towards the escalators heading up, his tie fluttering, and his face tense with worry. There was a family, a group of five, coming back from somewhere on the globe. Their skin was tanned and burnt, so most likely somewhere hot. JJ wondered just where Emily had been travelling, where she had been hiding. Always preferring the cold, JJ scoffed to herself. Of course it would be somewhere that was a moderate temperature; Emily hated the heat.

And then, as she began to visualise Emily somewhere cold and full of snow, deep chestnut brown eyes locked on to hers through the crowd.

JJ's heart began to thud erratically in her chest, the muscle pounding hard against her ribs, the sound filling her ears. She watched, frozen and unmoving, as her estranged lover began to slowly walk towards her, a small compact suitcase following behind. The blonde's thoughts began to race and she found that all moisture was lost from her mouth; she was struggling to swallow. She licked her lips and forced herself to breathe evenly, to think. But she found that even simple thoughts became impossible to contend with, her mind being unable to comprehend that her previously dead wife was now only feet away from her, parting the crowd as she continued to move forwards.

"Emily," JJ whispered, her eyes glazing slightly, her head a whirlwind of tongues and thoughts.

Within moments, a prolonged amount of time that seemed to drift past a finite, quantifiable amount of minutes, Emily was stood only inches from JJ. The blonde allowed her eyes to take in the body in front of her, a part of her brain screaming that this couldn't possibly be real. Solid, marine boots, sleek, dark denim jeans, a plain black t-shirt and a loose-fitting black leather jacket. Clothing that in JJ's eyes was so Emily, yet at this moment seemed to give away very little about the woman stood before her. The woman that watched her with _those_ eyes, with _that_ look. Where had Emily been? Where had she been living? Who had she been with?

JJ pulled in a breath as a hand reached out to gently take hold of her own. A thumb traced over the wedding ring adorning her left hand and JJ looked down, watching those familiar nail-bitten digits follow the gold band. A single, solidary tear jumped over the bump of JJ's cheek and fell to land on the women's' joined hands.

"Jennifer," Emily sighed sorrowfully.

The brunette reached out, the back of her fingers moving to gently stroke JJ's cheek and brush away the tear track left behind; it was an action that only reminded Emily that it would take much more than anything she'd ever had to give in her life to brush away all that had happened over the past few years. It would take hard grafting for Emily to repair her relationship not just with JJ, but her relationship with the team too, before everything would be back to a previous normal. Before, for all the world knew, she died. Her fingers slid down JJ's cheek and moved to gently caress her jaw, taking a light hold and lifting the blonde's face up towards her.

Dark brown orbs, full of worry, of concern and distress, full of pain and anguish and of love, locked onto stormy blues in front of her.

"I'm sorry," Emily whispered, her head shaking left to right slightly. "I am so sorry."

JJ found a hole begin to burn its way into her a chest. It was the same dark and dangerous pit that JJ had been trying desperately to escape since she had lost her wife. A deep unknown, a life without her lover, a life that she had never seriously thought she would need to leave behind. She began to gasp in air, desperate to pull in a breath, her vision growing foggy and unclear, and all-consuming pain enveloping every nerve ending from the point of her toes to the point of her fingers.

And then Emily's arms were securely wrapped around her in _that_ way, that way that JJ had begged her lover for whilst crying into her pillow nearly every night since the funeral. Other than the sound of JJ's sobs and intermittent hiccups as she struggled to gain control of herself, there was silence. The only other sound heard caused by the friction of Emily's hand as it slowly and soothingly moved up and down the blonde's back.

JJ eventually pulled back, one arm still securely wrapped around Emily and one hand fisted tight into the older woman's coat. Her other hand rose to her face to wipe the tears away. She chuckled, looking down at the floor and then at her wife's face, nothing the numerous emotions that seemed to be in conflict with one another.

"I'm sorry," the younger woman apologised, her voice gravelly. "I… I've…"

Emily shook her head left to right, taking JJ's hand that was currently tangled in her coat to entwine it with her own. She brought it up to her lips and kissed the wedding ring that remained firmly on JJ's left hand.

"Don't apologise," Emily spoke softly. "You have nothing to apologise for. Me on the other hand…" the brunette sighed, her thumb stroking across the warm metal. "I'm sorry that I couldn't do more to make these past few years easier for you. I dreamt of you every single night. Every night. Wondering where you were, how you were feeling, if you were okay," the brunette's eyes glazed over as she spoke. "I'm sorry."

JJ tightened her grip of Emily's hand and turned to look at Hotch.

"Hotch," Emily greeted, offering her hand.

Hotch gave Emily a stern look, rejecting her hand and instead stepping forward to hug Emily against him. Emily closed her eyes and hugged her colleague back hard. She was well aware that the week she had to spend with JJ was only made possible because of Hotch. She was also aware that she had only been able to survive the suffering and separation from everything she knew because of the man stood before her. Hotch had found ways to contact her, to keep her up to date, and as far as Emily was aware, the only one who was immediately understanding and forgiving of the entire situation.

Emily knew there was anger beneath her wife's sorrow, and that when she finally returned to work there would no doubt be some bitter words passed around. As far as her team knew at this current moment, whilst Emily was stood in the same state and country, as she was breathing the same air as those she had left behind, their team mate and friend was still buried beneath six feet of cold, hard soil.

When they finally relinquished their hold of one another, Emily looked Hotch straight in the eye.

"Thank-you," she simply said.

Hotch nodded his head in an all familiar way. "I don't know how the team are going to react to you returning," he admitted, silently accepting the brunette's thanks whilst simultaneously feeling guilty. Hotch knew that he was just as much to blame for this entire situation as Emily. "But if they need someone to take out their anger on, it should be me. Not you."

"Hotch."

"You were lying half-dead in a hospital bed," Hotch reminded Emily of how dire the whole situation had been. "You didn't have a choice in the matter. Even if you had, with the amount of pain meds you were forced to take and the number of injuries you sustained, I doubt you'd have been able to put up much of a fight."

Emily knew that Hotch was right. But she was unwilling to accept that face that this entire situation had in anyway been her boss' fault.

"The orders came from much higher above you" Emily argued. "You didn't have a choice either. Whatever the team's reaction…" the brunette swallowed and sighed. "I'll deal with it."

Hotch nodded his head and gave a small smile.

"Let's get you ladies home."

Emily followed JJ through the front door, gently closing it behind her. She placed her compact suitcase on the floor and took a few steps forwards into the main room, glancing around at the furnishings. Emily noted the pictures on the wall and the items that remained on the oak table. The brunette noted how on the DVD rack next to the television cabinet, the cases remained in alphabetical order. Something Emily always tried to keep so, but something that seemed impossibly when she lived here; JJ never put the DVD back into the same slot she took it from. Emily glanced at the coat rack, nothing how her own coats still remained hanging on the hooks.

"Nothing's changed," Emily noted.

JJ turned and looked at Emily, allowing her eyes to first glace around the room. She shook her head left to right.

"I didn't change anything," JJ admitted. "Maybe I always believed that you would make it back."

Emily clenched her jaw. The lie hit her hard.

"That's not true," the older woman countered firmly. "You didn't know that I was coming back. This only shows how much pain I caused you… It only affirms that you were unable to move on."

JJ took the words as a scolding and swallowed hard, willing tears not to well in her eyes. Of course, Emily was right. The blonde woman had been unable to redecorate or change the furniture. Just the thought of removing the pictures from the mantelpiece or off of the walls caused an immeasurably amount of pain. The only thing that she had managed to achieve was boxing Emily's clothing that was in the draws in their bedroom. Even then she had been unable to throw them out. Instead, they remained stacked neatly in the airing cupboard.

Emily took a deep breath, closing her eyes.

"Look, I'm sorry," the older woman apologised. "I know that I'm back. But what if I hadn't have been? We made a promise didn't we…? That if anything happened to one of us, we would continue to live our life for the other."

"I know that," JJ spoke quietly. "I know. And I meant that promise when I made it, I really did. But…" the younger woman chewed her bottom lip. "I gravely underestimated how deep the pain would be." JJ mentally chided herself. "I didn't…"

Emily ran her hand over her face and then walked over to JJ, opening her arms and allowing the younger woman to step into them. She held her tight, nuzzling her nose into the blonde's hair and breathing deeply, noting that JJ still chose to use the same shampoo. The shampoo that Emily picked out for her when they began dating.

"Listen," Emily pulled back, brushing her hand against JJ's che2ek and into the younger woman's hair. "I would really appreciate a shower right now. If you don't mind."

JJ looked away feeling dejected. "Yeah," JJ said. "I don't mind. Of course."

Emily pulled away and moved towards the stairs before pausing.

"Do you…" Emily licked her lips. "Do you maybe want to have a shower with me?"

JJ's eyes lit up but she was careful not to overreact. "Sure," she answered, offering a smile. "If you don't mind. If you want to use the shower alone, I understand."

The older woman's lips briefly curled into a small smile and for just a fraction of a second, JJ thought that Emily was going to accept what she had said and take up the offer. Showering on her own rather than allowed the younger woman to accompany her. But instead, Emily reached her hand out towards the threshold of the main room.

"Come on," Emily tilted her head towards the stairs.

JJ couldn't help the grin that overtook her or the giddy feeling that washed over her mind. She quickly walked over and slipped her hand into the brunette's, wrapping her fingers around Emily's tightly. The older woman then turned and began to climb her way along the stairs with JJ following close behind. Emily's eyes took in the walls and rooms as she passed them to make her way to the master bedroom; the room that she had once shared with JJ before the Doyle incident had destroyed their lives.

Emily's free hand reached down for the door handle and hesitated for a moment. The brunette shook her head left to right, chiding herself. What was she possibly expecting to find? Her hand wrapped around the handle and turned, pushing the door open so that she could step inside.

She glanced around the room. It was exactly the same as it had been the last night that Emily had slept in the king sized bed. The thought caused a twinge of pain in Emily's chest. She had no idea that her last night in this room was going to be her last night. She had no idea that the entire Doyle situation could spiral so far out of control. Emily had thought that she could handle it one her own, that she could track Doyle down by herself and end things before the team discovered the dark, deep hole that the truth had been buried in for so long.

But of course, nothing ever goes to plan.

Instead, Emily had dragged her team further into the entire situation, forced them to take the entire case personally. The voicemail from Garcia. Emily remembered the pain it caused, how she so dearly wished that she could just drive away from Doyle and back to the Quantico building where her friends and wife searched for her, but she couldn't. It wasn't an option. She had no idea that things would turn out so badly and that she would hurt so many people in the process.

"Are you okay?" JJ asked.

Emily turned to look at JJ, taking in her wife's form. She had no idea that the last night she spent in here would be her last night. She had no idea that for two and a half years, she would never feel her wife's arms around her again. They had gone to bed so normally, aside from the anxiety that had wrapped itself around Emily's heart. The brunette knew the moment she found her Interpol team member dead that she would soon be next. She couldn't drag her team into the situation and more importantly, her wife.

Emily hadn't decided that night to leave, more so the next day. She had fallen asleep curled into the blonde, her head resting against her wife's chest. She had listened to the steady heartbeat that echoed from inside of JJ, how the rhythmic sound meant that her wife was alive and well and sleeping peacefully.

"Yeah," Emily eventually answered, stroking her thumb against JJ's hand. "Yeah… At least you changed the sheets," she joked, nudging the blonde woman playfully and nodding her head towards the bed.

"Not for two and a half months," JJ admitted with a roll of her eyes. "I really was a mess."

Emily reached out and stroked JJ's cheek. "I am sorry," she apologised. "I knew that it was Doyle the moment we found the first body. I knew… I should have told someone. I should have told you and the team. I shouldn't have kept it to myself."

"It's okay," JJ promised. "You weren't thinking rationally. You were scared. And I know that only reason you ran was to track him down yourself. You didn't want to pull us all into it. More than that, nobody could have fathomed how badly things would go."

The brunette scolded herself for ever thinking that she could just run away from the beautiful woman stood beside her, the woman that had remained by her side for the past two and half years even if she didn't realise it.

"I shouldn't have left you," Emily said firmly. "I fell asleep listening to your heartbeat that night, not knowing that I wouldn't hear it again for so long," tears began to glaze over the older woman's eyes. "Maybe it was reasonable enough for me to want to keep the team out of it, but you. You at the very least deserved an explanation."

JJ reached up and stroked away a tear that fell from Emily's eye. "You should have," she agreed. "But there's no point regretting what can't be changed. Let's just be fortunate that we are both still here."

Emily nodded her head. "Sounds like a plan."

"Shower?" JJ asked.

Emily nodded her head.

JJ turned the shower one, repeatedly flicking her hand in and out to ensure that she got the right temperature. It wasn't like either woman was picky about what temperature the water needed to be for them to shower. But JJ was well aware, especially after a hard case or hard day, Emily enjoyed the water to be borderline scalding. The blonde was fine with that, as long as it wasn't too hot to actually scald.

Emily returned to the bathroom a few minutes later with a pair of light grey lounging joggers and a tank top. The younger woman had already gotten herself a spare pair of clothes to change into, but obviously Emily had to make her way to the airing cupboard to retrieve something. She had neatly folded both articles of clothing and placed them beside the bathroom door as she closed it. Not too far from the shower, but further enough that they wouldn't be sprayed with water when the two women climbed out of the class cubicle.

JJ stood up and took a towel hanging over the rail, using it dry her hand so that she could reach out towards Emily.

"You found something okay?"

"Yeah," Emily answered, taking JJ's hand and moving towards her. "You definitely don't have a degree in folding or organising craftsmanship, do you?" she teased.

JJ simply gave the older woman a look, allowing Emily to pull her towards her. It was the first time since Emily's return that the blonde had seen that signature Prentiss style smirk. She was glad that things were already beginning to settle. She knew that it was unlikely things would ever really get back to normal. There would always be something that was changed between their dynamic. But JJ knew that they could adapt to that, as long as it meant that they remained with each other.

As JJ stepped into Emily's space, the brunette slid her hands to rest on the blonde woman's hips, pulling them even closer.

"I really did miss you," Emily whispered, soulful brown eyes staring into blue, her breath ghosting over JJ's lips.

"I really did miss you too."

Emily reached a hand up to stroke the blonde's hair towards the back of her head, leaving her face completely bare to her. She leaned forward, closing her eyes and tilting her head, before she brushed her lips against JJ's. JJ couldn't help but shiver. She had convinced herself that she would never feel her wife's lips against hers again, that the last memory she would ever have of her was of little detail and little feeling. JJ didn't know that the last time her wife kissed her lips or touched her hand would truly be the last time. So she didn't remember the detail. She didn't remember the feeling, the sensation it caused. But now that she knew how lucky she was, she would not allow herself to ever take their relationship for granted again.

Something as simple as Emily brushing her lips against her own, JJ would remember that. Every miniscule detail. How smooth they felt and how languidly they moved against her own. The feeling of Emily breathing against her cheek. The feeling of the brunette's smooth, porcelain skin brushing against her cheek. The feeling of Emily's hand in her hair, resting against her scalp, her fingers curling gently. The feeling of Emily's firm and warm and steady hand against her hip. How it felt as that hand moved gracefully from her hip to the small of her back, where with a tender pressure, Emily brought them impossibly closer.

JJ would remember all of this, every day. She would create in her mind a catalogue of every moment that the two of them spent together. She would collect pictures of the brunette's smile, her smirk, pictures of those eyes. So deep and dark that JJ would allow herself to drown in them if it was possible.

"God," Emily ran her fingers straight through JJ's hair, bringing her hand back to rest against the blonde's cheek. She didn't care that the younger woman's golden curls now curtained their faces. "I thought about you every night."

Emily leaned in, her lips pressing against JJ's again. This is time more firmly. Each time Emily moved her lips against her wife's, her breath would drift over JJ's lips, mingling with the blonde's. The brunette had almost forgotten how this felt. To have JJ's arms wrapped around her and her lips against her own. No amount of lying awake until the early hours of the morning thinking of JJ could ever compare to this, to what they had in actuality.

"Jennifer," Emily breathed, her forehead resting against the younger woman's. "I worried that you'd find someone else. I grew jealous at the thought of you flirting with another woman, letting another into your life like this," the tips of the brunette's fingers, hard but undeniably smooth from years of torture by teeth, cradled JJ's face.

This was exactly the reason that JJ had come to terms with the entire situation being harder for Emily. There was finality in death. There was no finality in Emily's situation. Only thoughts. And they were thoughts that the brunette, for an unknown period of time, would have to battle and face herself. Maybe Emily was strong. Maybe she was able to stare death down in a fight. But when it came to those thoughts that spun their own web of insecurity and fear inside of her mind, JJ knew that Emily struggled to force them away. For those thoughts, she was frightened enough to always ask for help.

But she had no one. The entire time that Emily was forced to live a false life, she had no one.

JJ reached down for the hem of her own shirt, not bothering to undo the buttons and take it off properly, simply tugged and pulled up. Emily watched as fraction upon fraction of soft, honeycomb skin was revealed to her. She took it in hungrily. She didn't know where to touch, how to touch, only that she needed to feel that skin against hers. Emily needed her wife to be as close as possible to her. As JJ tossed her shirt aside, her fingers moved to the brunette's shirt. Emily bit her bottom lip, her neck arching back slightly.

And then as JJ's fingers slipped underneath to pull upwards, Emily remembered. She gasped. Her hands flew down to JJ's, ceasing the blonde's movements. The brunette pulled away, her eyes filling with tears, her head shaking left to right.

"No… I can't, I'm sorry, I…" Emily's back hit the door and the older woman closed her eyes, willing her chest to untighten.

"Emily," JJ soothed, remaining where she was. She didn't know if moving closer was the right thing. "Just breathe. Flatten your back against the door, you're going to end up having a panic attack and passing out." JJ profiled her every moment, trying to figure out if she had done something wrong.

Emily opened her eyes and looked at JJ for a moment. Her breaths were ragged, she was borderline panting. She knew that her vision would grow blurry next. Her knees would go weak, her muscles would stop working; she was building an oxygen debt. Emily knew that JJ was right. Emily pulled herself to stand completely upright. With her back flush against the door, it allowed her chest and lungs to open, allowing more air inside. Within a few moments, the brunette found everything returning to normal.

JJ just stood still, watching, unsure of what to do. She waited until she was sure the episode was over before talking. Her own voice inside of her head screamed at her to run over to her wife, to wrap her arms around her and rock her soothingly, to assure her that everything was okay. But JJ had shared the same bed with Emily for years and witnessed panic attacks and night terrors. She was well aware that to try and physically help was the wrong thing to do. She had to give time for the terror to pass first.

When she was sure it had fully been overcome, JJ spoke. "Emily, are you okay?" she asked, tying her hardest not to sound hurt or disappointed. "Was it something that I did?"

Emily reached a hand to her face to quickly brush away the tears. She shook her head left to right, sniffling.

"No," Emily swore quietly, her voice barely ever a whisper.

JJ clasped her hands together. "What happened?"

"I…" Emily looked at the floor, suddenly finding the criss-cross pattern of the bathroom tiles an effective distraction from the thoughts. "I haven't let anyone see them."

JJ frowned. "See what?"

"The scars," Emily whispered.

Realisation suddenly dawned within JJ's head, her mind finally being able to fully understand Emily's reaction. It wasn't that JJ had forgotten. But with the anticipation of simply having her wife back in her life, she'd neglected to consider the scars the fight with Doyle had left her with. There had been a fake autopsy report. Since JJ was not allowed to see the body, being told that it was better she remember he wife alive and well than on a metal slab, she had ordered to have access to the autopsy report. Of course, the injuries included in the report were true. It was only the death that was a lie.

"They won't make me look at you any different," JJ promised.

"No?" Emil rhetorically asked. "I think they will. I haven't been able to look at myself the same way in a mirror again," she admitted. "I thought about surgery to cover it up. I don't know why I didn't follow through. I…"

"Emily," JJ gently cut the older woman off. JJ waited until Emily's eyes rose from the floor to meet her own. "You are beautiful. All of you. Every part of you. Sure, I'm attracted to the way you look. But more importantly, I'm attracted to your _soul_ , Emily," she reassured. "This beautiful body that you have will always be beautiful so long as it carries the other half of me. And it does. You are the other half of me. No amount of scars can change that."

"He branded me, Jennifer."

"No," JJ firmly denied. "Maybe that's what he intended to do. But the only thing that he has done is given you affirmation that you won. You fought him, and he lost. He's dead Emily," she reminded. "Not you. The scars? They are a reflection of the battles you have fought and won to get here."

JJ was met with silence.

"I understand if you're not ready," the younger woman relented.

She was met with more silence. She knew how Emily worked. JJ had hit home a little too hard, a little too soon. She was aware that once Emily stopped speaking, even if she desperately wanted to say something, she struggled to open her mouth. Emily had once described it as being a on her throat, forcing it shut. JJ watched Emily's expression carefully before deciding what to do next.

Carefully, JJ moved just a few steps closer. Her hands reached for the button and zipper on her jeans. She didn't lose eye contact with Emily, instead simply leaving their eyes watching each other's as she began to undress. The blonde woman pushed her jeans down, wiggling her hips a little before gravity took over and they pulled around her feet. She kicked them to the side. JJ then bent down, taking hold of the socks enveloping her toes and pulling first one, then the other, off. She, too, discarded those.

"Jennifer…" Emily sounded unsure. "You… You don't need to do this."

JJ, glad that Emily was speaking again, said nothing. Instead she just continued. She reached behind her and her fingers sought out the claps of her bra. She struggled for a few seconds but successfully unclasped the metal hooks. JJ moved the bra straps over her shoulders before allowing them to slip down her arms and fall to the floor. The blonde could see that Emily's breathing rate had increased, but this time she was sure it was for an entirely different reason to the one prior.

Emily's eyes darkened as she stared at her wife's body. Then a frown grew on her face.

"What's that?" the brunette woman asked, tilting her head towards JJ.

"What?" she asked quizzically.

Emily walked closer to JJ, reaching her fingers out and brushing them softly across the space between two ribs. A jagged line ran from just underneath JJ's breast to the side of her rib cage. It was paler than JJ's honeycomb skin and stood out. It was a new scar. Something that had not been there before Emily had left.

"Oh," JJ blushed. "You know that I cycle to exercise sometimes. I caught the tyre on the curb and the bike overturned… I fell on a piece of glass."

"Was everything okay?" Emily asked concerned.

JJ nodded her head, reassuring the older woman. "I needed a few stitches but it wasn't anything serious," she promised.

As Emily's fingers moved to trace the scar along the small gap between two ribs, JJ couldn't help the shiver that crawled its way along her spine.

"Jennifer."

The two leant in and their lips touched, both initiating another kiss. The kiss grew longer and deeper, creating a more intimate dance than the kisses they had previous shared, conveying a kind of desperation and anxiety that almost mimicked their first ever time together. When JJ's fingers reached for the hem of Emily's t-shirt, this time the brunette allowed it. She pulled back, reaching her arms up and pointing her hands towards the ceiling as she allowed the younger woman to pull the shirt over her head. She tossed it carelessly aside.

Emily sighed, her head falling back against her shoulders as JJ's mouth moved along her jaw and neck. She nipped the skin under the brunette's jaw, allowing a breathy moan to brush against the older woman's skin. Emily's fingers reached into her hair, her nails raking against her wife's scalp as she urged her further along her neck, until the kisses were no longer against her face or along the side of her neck, but against the hollow of her throat and her chest.

JJ reached the scar that lay across her wife's chest. She paused momentarily, her fingertips tracing along the side of Emily's neck to touch the raised skin. The younger woman leant forward and pressed a lingering kiss against the shamrock, before slowly walking backwards in the direction of the shower. She turned, facing her back towards Emily. Her fingers hooked into either side of her panties and she pulled them down, releasing them from her grip once they reached her knees. They fell to the floor and JJ effortlessly kicked them to the side.

JJ turned her head and watched Emily's dark orbs as they traced the lines of her body.

"You coming?" JJ asked seductively, giving Emily a small smile of encouragement.

Emily stood for a moment, her head awash with thoughts. She closed her eyes and inhaled a deep breath. The hot steam from the shower allowed her to breathe a little more easily. As she heard the sound of the spray from the shower change, reflecting that a body was now beneath the water, Emily reached behind her and unclipped her bra. She allowed the same steam that was currently clearing her lungs and chest to clear her head of thoughts. Emily was not going to allow her current fixation on the past and the damage that had been caused to ruin this moment with her wife.

Swiftly removing her remaining clothing and neatly placing them on top of the laundry basket next to the sink, Emily took the few short steps to the glass shower cubicle and slid open the door.

Emily was immediately greeted by two arms which slid along her sides and then around to her back, where they pressed gently to bring their bodies together. Despite the searing heat and the steam, the brunette couldn't help but shiver. It had been a long time since she felt the length of her wife's body against her own: the smooth skin of her legs, the press of a toned stomach against her own, her wife's breasts and nipples moving against the sensitive skin of her own, the feel of small trickles of water finding its way against their skin and flowing between them.

Those same arms and hands that greeted her so warmly then moved upwards, fingertips pressing against either side of her spine. They come round, sliding over the brunette's breasts and causing a moan, before settling against either side of the brunette's face. No words needed to spoken and even if they found that words had been needed, the kiss said it all; the words that had been swallowed deep down and wrapped around their hearts now resurfaced in the contact of their lips. The movement of tongues and hands said all that needed to be said.

Kisses soon turned into playful nips and bites, the sliding of hands escalating to kneading and heavy petting and the heat on each of the women's faces was no longer as a result of the steam. Emily pulled back for breath, her chest heaving. But JJ found that no break was needed on her part. Instead, the desire to touch and reconnect with her wife overcame her.

JJ was brief working her way down, placing kisses and nips along her way. Her tongue briefly found its way wrapped around a nipple and as she knelt on her knees against the warm plastic of the cubicle flooring, her tongue drew a line across the new scar adoring Emily's stomach. She paused for a moment, simply pressing her ear against the older woman's abdomen to listen to the beating and steady rhythm of blood beneath. Just to reassure herself that Emily was _alive_. This was no longer a fantasy or a dream, but reality. Not only was Emily alive and well, at least physically, she was also home.

Emily's fingers wound their way into JJ's hair, her nails raking lightly across the blonde's scalp and causing a hot puff of air against the skin just above the brunette's most intimate place. The brunette found her hips bucking and a hiss play its way across her lips.

"Jennifer," Emily pleaded softly, her head once again falling against her shoulders.

JJ understood. Yes, she wanted to take her time. Yes, she wanted to re-examine every inch of Emily's skin from her scalp right down to her toes. Yes, she wanted to worship her wife's body as the temple that it truly was, restate her vows of religion to a goddess she so long ago gave her soul to with the simple words, 'I do'. But right now, she, too, needed to feel. Needed to make her wife _feel_ and reassure both of them that what they had, what had been left behind amongst the chaos of the past few years, was still there, alive and well, too.

Without any more encouragement from the brunette, JJ placed a brief kiss against the smooth skin of Emily's hip and then drew her tongue between her legs. She felt the older woman manoeuvre herself against the cold glass of the shower cubicle to steady herself, felt her hands tightening in her hair. JJ, despite their situation, despite the arousal and bone-deep desire to bury her face between her wife's legs, took a moment to simply smile to herself. This was how their mornings would be from now on; shared showers and moments of intimacy before their day well and truly began.

JJ slid her hand along the back of the brunette's left leg and once reached her knee, pressed lightly. Emily received the message. She lifted her leg and placed it over the blonde's shoulder, allowing JJ easier access and the brunette some extra support. With one arm wrapped securely around Emily's thigh, the other placed across the older woman's abdomen, JJ finally allowed her tongue to seek its way between Emily's lower lips.

Emily pulled her lower lip between her teeth and bit down hard, her hands tightening their grip in JJ's blonde locks. She wanted this moment to last, wanted the pleasure to draw on, to give her wife chance to truly lose herself to the moment and give herself a chance to really feel her lover's touch. But Emily knew that she would be unable to last too long. Her skin was already highly sensitive, every nerve ending standing to attention and firing small shots of hot electricity through her body. Combined with the feel of the blonde's warm tongue flicking over her clit, the liquid spray from the shower dripping along the inside of her thighs and between her legs, there was no way she'd be able to hold out.

JJ was well aware of this. More than that, she didn't mind. She wrapped her lips tight around the brunette's clit and sucked hard, making the usually quiet brunette moan out loud. Her hips bucked. JJ forced her arm across Emily's torso more firmly, pinning her wife, or at least the lower portion of her, against the glass pane. The younger woman then flicked her tongue across Emily's already throbbing clit, wriggling the muscle just under the hood to the most sensitive part where she placed barely there licks.

But despite the gentle touches, it was more than enough to send Emily spiralling over the edge, sending shockwaves of pure unadulterated pleasure throughout her entire body and a whirlwind of emotion to her head.

By the time she fully gathered her senses, JJ had her arms securely wrapped around her, the hot, comforting shower of the spray massaging her tingling skin.

"Jennifer."

Emily received a hum in response and a gentle pressing of lips against her own.

"I love you."

"I love you too," JJ whispered, taking a small moment to watch those soulful brown eyes she had missed so much.

Emily slid her fingers against the smooth, honeycomb skin of JJ's back, pressing lightly and coaxing the blonde woman impossibly closer. As another kiss was initiated, Emily slid her hand over the curve of JJ's ass and the curve of her thigh to slip between her legs. Her fingers were met with wetness that could not blame the shower for its existence. No. This was the feeling of finally being home.


End file.
